


no ending, you're my heartbeat

by jhopefulyoongi



Series: Code Name: Angel [3]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Blood, Depression, Flashbacks, Gang Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Heartache, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutual Pining, Organized Crime, Protectiveness, Torture, Violence, seungcheols backstory revealed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-05 15:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhopefulyoongi/pseuds/jhopefulyoongi
Summary: Jisoo has always been the one who took care of them. He was the one who saved them.Now it's their turn to save him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title from bts' "dont leave me"

"Jisoo!"

Seungcheols scream rang in the ears of everyone in the room. Nothing was clear. The vague outlines of people, the sound of the fine china crashing to the floor, and Seungcheol's screaming were all that could be made out.  Jeonghan wanted to do something, he wanted to run to Jisoo, he wanted to check on Seungcheol. But he couldn’t. Seconds after the first gunshot the windows shattered and the sound of machine guns going off were all that could be heard. Seungcheol screamed again, and Jeonghan could do nothing but watch as someone tackled the outline of Seungcheols figure to the ground, and hope that whoever it was, it was one of them. The bullets shattered and broke every single window in the dining room, broke every vase, tore up the walls and the ceiling as they were shot out of their casings at random.

 Someone grabbed Jeonghan around the back of the neck and he elbowed them in the face, sending them flying backwards into the wall. Before he could pounce on who had attacked him, someone else grabbed him from behind, but before he could even think about getting them off him, a blade was pressed against his neck and he froze.

 Before he could think about what to do next, the lights came back on. Not being able to help himself, Jeonghan looked towards the end of the table, but Jisoo was gone. There was nothing left of him but a puddle of blood on the chair, splashes of red on the wall behind where he had been sitting, and his suit jacket, still laying on the back of the chair with a hole through it.

 

Pain seized his chest, but Jeonghan could not be distracted. If Jisoo was gone, then he was the one who had to take charge, he was the one who had to protect Seungcheol and the others. But if the person holding a knife against his throat got a little too excited, he wouldn’t be able to do that. No, that didn’t matter, he would have to think of a way, he couldn’t let them all go down like this. There had to be something he could do.

 

Jeonghan looked around the rest of the room-or tried to. His eyes froze when he saw Seungcheol, back on his feet and holding a gun pointed straight at him. Before a single thought of doubt could enter his mind, Seungcheol stopped it all.

 

"Let him go!"

 

No, he had been wrong, the gun wasn’t pointed at him, nor was it pointed at whoever had their blade at his throat. Jeonghan looked over his shoulder, and he saw a bleeding, unconscious Jisoo held in the arm of a bald, burly man. But he wasn’t the one Seungcheol was aiming the gun at. A tall, slender man with silky black hair, and a handsome face with fine lines stood next to the bald gangster, his face calm even as he stared down the barrel of Seungcheol's gun. Jeonghan felt like he had seen him somewhere, there was something in his face that was familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

 Jeonghan chanced a look around the room, and his heart sank. Nearly everyone had been knocked out. Mingyu hadn’t, and neither had Junhui. He was screaming his head off as someone wrapped a towel over his mouth, knotting it at the back of his head before they bonded his arms behind his back with thick pieces of beige rope. Even those who were knocked out were being held by someone just in case they woke up.

 Everyone except Seungcheol. Jeonghan didn’t know why no one was trying to grab him. There were plenty of them with their hands free, and Seungcheol was well in reach of any of them, but no one laid a finger on him, no one even attempted to. Jeonghan noticed Mingyu struggling in the arms of two men, his face bruised, and he realized that Mingyu must have been the one who dove on top of Seungcheol, trying to protect him from the unknown threat.

 Seungcheol’s shoulders were shaking, but the gun was steady in his hands. Jeonghan could tell that if he wanted to, he would have a clean shot. But how? Jisoo had never let Seungcheol anywhere near any of their guns, and Seungcheol had told them on multiple occasions he didn’t even like being anywhere near them. Jeonghan had never seen the gun though, it was nothing that Jisoo would have because it was so small, wouldn’t hold more than a few bullets, useless to them in a fight, so he could not even begin to image where Seungcheol had gotten it or why. But the way he was holding it, the way his aim was perfect and steady despite his own stress and fear. No one would be able to do that unless they had experience. No, even more than that. They would have been taught to handle a gun like that, they would have been taught how to do that for years.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan tried to say, but his words were broken off when pressure was applied to his throat. Seungcheols gaze wavered and he looked away from Jisoo and the other men, eyes falling onto Jeonghan instead.

“Let him go, Jaehyuk,” Seungcheol demanded, aiming the gun flawlessly towards the man who was holding the knife to Jeonghan’s throat. His hands still didn’t shake, but Jeonghan could tell that he was panicking. His breath came out in loud, rough puffs and he suddenly swung around the room. “Let them all go, right now!” He screamed. The odd thing was that all the people looked at Seungcheol, and there was hesitation, consideration in their eyes. They all thought about following Seungcheol’s demands, but Jeonghan couldn’t understand why. There were thirty of them, all armed, and Seungcheol was just one person with a tiny silver handgun.

The tall, handsome man let out a small laugh and Seungcheol turned back towards him, tears brimming up in his eyes. “You have been away from me for so long,” He said, sounding almost loving, and it made all the hairs on the back of Jeonghan’s neck stand up straight. “But you have not forgotten any of your lessons, I’m so proud of you.” He sounded like he meant it, which freaked Jeonghan out even more. Who the hell was this guy? How did he know Seungcheol? And was Jisoo even breathing right now? His eyes were shut and-yes, Jeonghan could see his chest rise and fall. He was alive, but how long would he remain that way? Jeonghan had to think of something.

“Daddy, please, let him go, please.” Seungcheol whimpered and Jeonghan-wait, what had Seungcheol just called that man?

“You know I can’t do that, dearest,” The man tutted, sounding almost genuinely sad that he had to refuse Seungcheol. The man walked towards Jisoo and patted him on the cheek. Jeonghan felt bile rise in his throat, seeing someone touch Jisoo like that. He ran his fingers over Jisoo’s limp, hanging head, and Jeonghan saw Seungcheol take a step towards the man. “He took you away from me.” He said to Seungcheol, though he was looking at Jisoo. There was hatred in his eyes, pure hatred, it couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else. But when he looked up from Jisoo and looked at Seungcheol, his eyes turned soft and warm and he looked like he could have smiled from just seeing his face.

“No, he didn’t.” Seungcheol croaked, tears falling down his cheeks, obviously not returning the feeling. “He saved me.” Seungcheol wiped his cheek and aimed the gun back at his…his father? Jeonghan supposed that was who he was. “Let him go,” Seungcheol whispered, one last time.

“I can’t do that,” He repeated. “You know the family rule, Seungcheol. We always get revenge.”

Seungcheol’s hands finally began to shake, and Jeonghan never wanted to protect him more in his entire life then he did now. “Come on, Seungcheol. Let your father get rid of this scum and come back to us,” The man-Jaehyuk was it?- holding Jeonghan said. “Your dad went to all this trouble, your brothers miss you, I miss you, come home.”

“That’s not my home.” Seungcheol whispered.

“Where is home then?” Jaehyuk demanded. “Huh? That apartment your dad bought for you that you abandoned after a few months? Is home that basement that you got beaten in? Is this hellhole your home?”

“ _He’s_ my home.” Seungcheol said.

“But you’re just his whore!” Jaehyuk screamed, enraged by Seungcheol’s affections, and he threw Jeonghan at the table and went marching towards Seungcheol. Before he could get further then a foot or two, an all too familiar hand grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into the table, the sound of his nose breaking able to be heard from anywhere in the room. Jeonghan wobbled to his feet and watched as the bald one, now sporting a bleeding lip, grabbed Jisoo once again.

“I’ll kill you,” Jisoo spat at Jaehyuk, but he didn’t resist and let himself be held captive. Jeonghan’s head was spinning from being shoved into the table, but he still tried to make a move. Jaehyuk got back up in time to stop him though, throwing him against the wall and holding the blade against his throat once more, hissing at him angrily as blood dribbled down his mouth.

“Jisoo-“Seungcheol gasped, relief from seeing that he was awake in his voice. But there was even more fear in it.

“Angel,” Jisoo said, voice groggy because of the blood lose, but still firm and strong. “Let them take me.”

“No!” Seungcheol and Jeonghan shouted at the same time. Jeonghan tried to pretend that the blade nipping at his skin didn’t hurt.

“I couldn’t live with myself if you had to go back there,” Jisoo told Seungcheol. “I’ll be alright, I promise.”

“No, I won’t let them take you. _No.”_ Seungcheol shot, but his bullet missed the bald man holding Jisoo by only an inch or two. It would have hit him if one of the men-dressed head to toe in stone gray-hadn’t shoved him to the side.

Seungcheol landed on the floor in a heap, his gun falling from his hand and skidding across the floor. Seungcheol’s father didn’t look pleased. But he wasn’t mad at his son, no, he was glaring at the man who had shoved Seungcheol and stopped him from shooting the bald man right through the skull.  “You put your hands on my boy?” He asked, and the mans lip wobbled as he shook his head rapidly.

“Boss, no, please.”

“Seungcheol, dearest,” Seungcheol’s father said, turning away from the suddenly pleating man and picking up Seungcheol’s gun and placing it in a nearby potted plant. “I hate to say goodbye so suddenly, but I’m afraid Jisoo might need a doctor, so the two of us should get going.”

“No,” Seungcheol said desperately. “No, please, I’ll come, I promise I’ll come with you, just let him go, please.”

“No, Seungcheol.” Jisoo said, voice weak and Jeonghan couldn’t stop his heart from pounding painfully in his chest. He was terrified that Jisoo wouldn’t make it.

“Jisoo-“

“Its alright, precious,” Jisoo said, eyes straining to stay open, blood still dripping from his wound. “I’ll feel better just knowing your safe. Besides,” Jisoo grinned painfully. “I’ve always wanted to meet your family.”

“He has to pay for what he’s done, Seungcheol,” His father said, shaking his head almost regretfully. “And you need to be a good boy and remember who your family really is and find your own way home.”

“I love you, Angel.” Jisoo said.

Jeonghan couldn’t tell whose words set it off, as Jisoo spoke immediately after Seungcheol’s father, but the lights went off again. Seungcheol was screaming Jisoo’s name over and over again, pleating for him to be let go, screaming that he would come home and never leave again, but when the lights came back on and Jeonghan was sitting on the floor, knife no longer to his neck, they were alone. There was only a shaking Jeonghan, a sobbing Seungcheol, a bruised Mingyu, a gagged Junhui, and the eight others knocked out and lying on the floor, breathing but perfectly still.

Those who had destroyed their home were gone, and they had taken Jisoo with them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some hints about jisoos past as well in this chapter

It wasn’t what Jisoo had been expecting. The room smelled of lavender and a flowery perfume, something he thought he recognized but couldn’t place. There were several long, wide windows on the west wall, soft pink curtains covering them from top to bottom, the curtains stopping just a centimeter or two above the floor. Jisoo was surprised enough that he had been put in a bed as it was, but it wasn’t just any old bed. It was massive, with thick white duvets and sheets, as soft as the bedding he had at home, a dozen or so pillows spread out underneath his head and back, each of them decorated with a different pattern of pastel cherry blossoms. It was so comfortable that he would have easily been able to fall asleep in it if he wasn’t forcing himself to stay awake.

Thought he would have to say, the posters of Kim Heechul from Super Junior’s earlier years were the most surprising thing in the room by far.

Jisoo suddenly thought of the time he had first read Stephen Kings _Misery_. The second or third foster home read at the library because he never wanted to go back to any of those houses, a year or two before he would meet Jeonghan. He was always reading those kinds of books, and he still remembered one of his foster mothers slapping him across the face with a copy of _Carrie_ when she found him reading it because _the devil is in those books, Joshua, if you read them, he’ll go in you too. I’m just slapping him out of you._

Maybe the old hag had had a point.

Jisoo spared a look at the bookshelf on the east wall, a smile threatening to stretch across his face when he saw a row containing nothing but Stephen King books, paperbacks of other horror and mystery novels stuffed onto the same row on top of them because all of the other shelves were also overflowing.

He had a pretty good idea as to where he was, and if this was the room of the person he thought it was, if his Angel had also read those books and turned out the way he did, then he knew it wasn’t the books at all.

Not that he really thought that the books had anything to do with it. Jisoo knew exactly why he ended up the way he did.

The door to the bedroom opened, but Jisoo didn’t look at who entered. He was trying to read some of the titles of the books on the top shelf but couldn’t see half of them because of the way he was sitting. What a shame, he and Seungcheol proved to have a similar taste in reading so far. Funny, they hadn’t ever really talked about it before. If he ever got to see him again, Jisoo would have to make sure to bring it up.

Jisoo only looked at who entered when a tray of food was placed across his lap. Jisoo was surprised by what was on his plate. For a moment he felt like he was back in his mother’s kitchen in L.A. He only had a handful of memories from that time left, but his mother making him eggs, bacon and toast on the weekends were one of them.

“Is my brother really with the American?”

He didn’t look much like Seungcheol. Choi Soojung resembled his father the most out of the three brothers. The only thing they all seemed to have in common was the nose. Yikyoungs nose was long and sharp, while his sons’ were all softer and slightly more rounded at the end.

“The American speaks Korean, you know,” Jisoo told him, unimpressed as he spread butter across one of the pieces of toast. He didn’t speak much of it when he first arrived though, sometimes he still had a hard time with writing in it, which was why all his notes were in English. It was easier for him, and it decreased the number of people that could use his information against him if they were even able to hack his system.

“All of the wannabe mobsters in Seoul, and he goes with you,” Soojung sighed, taking a seat in the armchair by the bookcase and taking out a packet of cigarettes. “Didn’t think they were even his type,” He said, as he took out his lighter and lit his cigarette.

“I never got the impression that Seungcheol had a specific type,” Jisoo replied calmly, picking up a piece of scrambled egg and examining it. He didn’t have the heart to say that he preferred them sunny side up. These were, in a way, his in-laws, after all, he had to be polite. So, he ate the scrambled egg and ignored the unpleasant texture the best he could.

Soojung snorted in amusement and took a long drag. “I guess you’re right.” He didn’t elaborate on that, and Jisoo didn’t push on it. His wound was still throbbing even after having been stitched up, the steady blood drip into his arm taken out the day before. It had been awhile since they had given him anything solid, two or three days, he thought. Definitely two, maybe three. Perhaps he would have to let himself get some sleep, so he could stay clearer minded. It wouldn’t do him any good if he couldn’t so much as remember how many days he had been there.

No, Seungcheol never had a type. Never wanted anyone besides Jisoo in his life. Maybe Jeonghan. Jisoo wasn’t a fool, he saw the way Seungcheol sometimes looked at him, and the way Jeonghan looked back at him even more. Jisoo and Jeonghan were alike in many ways, but there were also different in just the same amount. This didn’t confirm or deny his theory of Seungcheol not having a type though.

A physical type? Certainly not. It was more of an emotional type that Seungcheol had.

“Is this Seungcheols room?” Jisoo asked Soojung as he was finishing up his breakfast. He was certain he already knew the answer to that, but he wouldn’t have minded getting some confirmation.

“It was his permeant room up until he was fourteen, and then he used it whenever he came home until he disappeared,” Soojung said, stuffing his cigarette out on the glass ashtray he had brought with him and standing up to take away the tray.

“Why did your father put me here?” Jisoo asked Soojung, wondering if he was going to get an answer.

“Its what Seungcheol would have wanted,” Soojung said, calmly. “Father always wants to please him, even with something like this. You might be dead soon, things like this might put Father in Seungcheols favor, or so he would like to believe.” Soojung gave Jisoo a wry smirk and then he left the room, telling him someone would be in to serve him lunch in a few hours.

Jisoo hummed in reply and went back to trying to read all of the titles on the bookshelf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im having block on p much everything else rn but this is turning out to be easy for me to write
> 
> twt: lemonjunnie  
> tumblr: junhuui

**Author's Note:**

> *the boys are back from hsm3 plays in the distance* uWU IM BACK BC I COULDNT STAY AWAY FROM THIS WORLD


End file.
